


What A Feeling

by Jo (jmathieson)



Series: Tangents and Intersections ~ Kink Bingo 2013 [56]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clubbing, Community: kink_bingo, Dancing, Dirty Dancing, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Grinding, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 13:31:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint goes dancing. Phil watches.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What A Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Exposure/Exhibitionism

They climbed out of the cab and headed towards the club. Clint was wearing a shiny spandex dark purple sleeveless t-shirt and a pair of black jeans so tight they looked painted on. 

"How can you even walk in those, let alone dance in them?" Phil had asked earlier that evening when he had seen Clint's outfit. Clint had grinned and lifted one leg in a perfect Arabesque that he had learned from Nat.

"Nat took me to a dance outfit place. It's awesome. Full of clothes that you can actually move in. Come to think of it, I should go back some time and see if they do suit jackets."

The idea of Clint shopping for dance pants was enough to keep Phil amused while he shaved and then dressed, in a much more conservative pair of faded light blue jeans and a white t-shirt.

"Is this OK?" he had asked Clint.

"Whatever you're comfortable in is absolutely fine, Phil. I want you to be able to relax and have fun."

The idea of going out to a gay dance club had come about while they were driving back from the incident in New Mexico. Clint had started talking about how he used to go out to clubs sometimes to blow off steam after a frustrating mission, and they had ended up discussing Phil's issues with being out in public. Phil was doing much, much better on that score, but he still wasn't very comfortable with showing affection when there were other people around. It was something he wanted to fix, so they had agreed that going out to one of Clint's old haunts might be both fun and liberating.

Walking down the sidewalk, Clint took Phil's hand, and he forced himself not to flinch. He flashed Clint an apologetic look.

"We don't have to do this."

"No, it's fine. I want to."

"OK, but if you hate it, or even if you're just uncomfortable and not having fun, we'll leave."

They got to the door and joined the end of a short, fast moving line-up.

"Clint! Good to see you man! You haven't been here in ages!"

"Hi Benny, I didn't know if you'd remember me. It's good to see you. Benny, this is my partner Phil. Phil, Benny." Phil stuck out his hand to shake and got a firm, warm grip from the doorman? bouncer?

"Partner, huh? You settled down? Is that why you haven't been around?"

"Yep. We've got a house and a mortgage and everything. I'm all boring now, and loving it." Clint laughed as he put his arm around Phil and gave him a squeeze.

"Well it looks good on you man, you look happy. Good for you. Nice to meet you, Phil. Have a nice evening."

"Thanks," said Clint and Phil just smiled.

They went through the front door into a brightly lit anteroom with posters on the wall advertising DJs and burlesque shows. Clint led them to a counter and reached for his wallet. Phil looked at the big sign behind the counter that read, "We Card Everybody. No Exceptions." and nodded approvingly at the UV scanner behind the desk and the colour enlargements of fake IDs.

Clint pulled out his driver's license and two twenty dollar bills and Phil dug his license out of his wallet. Their IDs approved and money accepted, they got stamps on the backs of their hands. 

"Twenty bucks, isn't that a little steep?" Phil asked quietly as they headed for the big double-doors that led into the club proper.

"One of the reasons I like this place, it attracts an older, uh... classier crowd. The high cover charge keeps out the kids and the trouble-makers, mostly, and pays for good DJs, without the drinks being horribly over-priced, too."

They showed their hand-stamps to the woman at the double-doors and headed in.

The assault of loud music, bright lights, and the crush of people stunned Phil for a minute, and he had to stop himself from going into a defensive crouch. Clint recognized what was going on immediately, and put a reassuring arm around him, then moved them over to the side where they had a wall at their backs, and good sight-lines to the door. Clint slid his hand up from Phil's waist to the side of his ribcage so that he could monitor his breathing. Phil leaned in and shouted in Clint's ear, "I'm fine. Just give me a minute to get used to the volume." Clint nodded. He'd known this was going to be a bit of a shock for Phil, but Phil was adaptable, and usually unflappable, and Clint was pretty confident that he'd be fine.

Sure enough, after about thirty second of scanning the room, Phil took a deep breath and shouted again, "OK, I'm good."

"You're better than good," Clint yelled back, and pulled Phil into his arms and kissed him. It took Phil a second to relax into the kiss. He knew, logically, that no one was paying any attention to them, that it was perfectly safe for Clint to kiss him in a crowded room full of strangers, but he was still working on getting past the years he spent hiding. Clint was doing his level best to stop him from thinking about anything except a hot tongue in his mouth, though, and doing a fairly good job of it. They were both breathing heavily when Clint was finally done with him, and pulled back, grinning.

"C'mon, let's get a drink. It's quieter over by the bar."

Clint led Phil to the long bar at the far end of the club. He glanced towards the dance floor as they passed it. It was large and brightly lit, surrounded by big concrete pillars that couples (and in some cases three-somes and more-somes) were lounging against, making Clint's kiss look like a chaste peck on the cheek. 

At the bar, Clint ordered them each a beer, and then turned to look at the room. He wasn't particularly looking for familiar faces, though he did spot a couple. The people he knew were likely to be over on the dance floor, anyway. He hoped Phil was enjoying himself, or at least wasn't hating it. The bartender returned with their drinks, and Clint put his lips next to Phil's ear to ask, "Do you want to head straight over to the dance floor, or find a quiet corner for a bit first?"

"Quiet corner sounds good."

Clint led him over to a set of low semi-circular booths set along one wall and gestured him into an un-occupied one. Phil put his drink down on the tiny round table and slid in, Clint following. Clint laced his fingers through Phil's under the table, took a sip of his beer, and then surveyed the room a little bit more. He felt Phil shift beside him and turned to face him.

"How are you doing?"

Instead of answering immediately, Phil picked up his glass and took a swallow of his beer, then put it back down carefully before saying,

"Yellow."

Clint started. They hadn't talked about tonight in terms of it being a... scene, did Phil see it that way? Phil gave him a half-smile, and Clint understood. It was the easiest way for him to explain how he felt in the crowded, noisy bar.

"Is there something I can do to fix it, or do you want to leave?"

Phil shook his head at the second half of the question.

"I don't want to leave - definitely not before I've had a chance to see you dance. It's just..."

"What can I do to make you feel more comfortable, Phil?"

Phil looked him in the eye and said,

"Pay more attention to me. I liked it when you kissed me, earlier. It made me feel... good."

Clint nodded. He realized that it seemed to Phil like he was looking at all the other, younger, more flashily dressed people in the bar, when really, all he'd been doing was getting a sense of what, if anything, had changed since he'd last been here. Clint shifted around so that his back was to the room and he was facing Phil. He hooked one of his knees over Phil's leg on the bench seat, put one of his arms around Phil's shoulders, and cupped the side of his jaw with his other hand. Then he leaned in and kissed him, long and slow and deep.

"Better?" He asked when they broke apart.

"Much better. Sorry, I..."

"Hey. You've got nothing to apologize for. This isn't your usual scene."

"I was kind of surprised to find out that it was yours, to be honest."

"Used to be, I guess."

"I don't want to stop you from doing anything you want to do, Clint..."

"You aren't. You don't. I used to come here because it was a good way to burn off steam. Much better than meaningless sex, which made me feel crappy about myself. Dancing made me feel good about myself. The same way you make me feel good about myself. The way you make me feel important and worthwhile. And I much prefer blowing off steam with you..." Clint gave him a grin that was halfway to a leer, and leaned in to kiss him again. This time Phil put both hands in Clint's hair and pressed against him while they kissed, consciously relaxing and shedding some of his inhibitions.

"Much more of that, and I'm going to just drag you right back home." Clint said when they came up for air.

"Nope, not yet," Phil said, finishing his beer, "I want to see some of this dancing of yours, first." 

They headed over to the dance floor and found a vantage point that Clint liked, near one of the big pillars, so that he'd have a good reference point to spot Phil, once he got started. 

"You're going to be OK here just watching?" Clint didn't add 'by yourself.'

"I'm a big boy, Clint, I'll be fine."

"OK, I'm gonna go do some moves. Flash me a signal if you get bored and want to leave."

Clint kissed him once more, hard, and squeezed his ass, and then drifted onto the dance floor, backwards, still facing Phil, but miraculously not bumping into anyone. Clint's peripheral vision and spatial awareness had always been just this side of super-human... 

Phil watched as Clint started to undulate to the music. At first it was just that, undulation, like a cartoon snake moving to a snake-charmer's flute, his whole body moved in smooth, sensuous waves. Then his feet started to move, slowly at first, feeling out the beat and internalizing it, so that he wouldn't have to consciously think about it. Phil recognized it from the way Clint moved across rooftops or other terrain - one glance to memorize the landscape, and then his body just accounted for it automatically. 

The beat sped up (or the song changed, Phil couldn't tell if the music was actually made up of different songs) and Clint's arms got in on the act. First one, loose and languid above his head, swaying a counterpoint to the complex pattern his feet were now pounding out, and then the other, elbow out at shoulder height, snapping this way and that. As Phil watched, he realized how smoothly Clint had carved out some space on the dance floor. He had a couple of feet to himself in the middle of the crush now, and a few admirers had turned to face him and were watching him dance. 

Both arms were moving now in complex patterns that seemed even more esoteric in the flashing strobe lights, and his footwork also became more complex, stepping forward and back and from side to side in lunges, adding kicks and jumps. The music changed again, (Phil heard the change this time) and sped up, and he saw Clint's teeth flash white in a grin. There was a wide circle around him now, and he was performing. Completely unselfconsciously, dancing for himself, dancing because it made him feel good, but putting on a show as well, being... Clint. 

Phil recognized moves from the acrobatics and tumbling routines that he still practiced regularly in the SHIELD gym. He spotted moves from three or four different styles of martial arts, more than one ballet pose that Nat must have taught him, and a handful of moves that Phil had seen in the 'urban dance' numbers on "So You Think You Can Dance" and "Dancing With The Stars." Clint blended them all together seamlessly, twisting and jumping and spinning, exuding strength and grace and confidence and sex appeal.

Despite the blow job that Clint had given him earlier that evening, Phil was half-hard again, watching as Clint spun and jumped, head back, chest out, muscles rippling and body moving with a perfect control that made the entire performance look completely effortless. And it was a performance. Clint was dancing for himself, but he was also dancing for him, Phil realized. Because he had asked, wanted to see. Phil was aroused and entranced.

The music slowed, and so did Clint's moves, becoming more languid and if possible, even more sensuous. There was a wide circle of spectators around him now, and Phil had to move onto the dance floor itself and stake out a spot for himself with folded arms so that he still had a good view. Clint spun, caught his eye, and flashed him a smile that made heat bloom in his belly and his chest.

'Mine!' As he watched Clint move, Phil's thoughts drifted to later, at home, in their bed, Clint moving with the same slow sensuousness above him, buried deep inside him, fucking him slowly.

The music changed again, and Clint's moves changed with it, snapping sharply with the faster, more staccato beat. He was concentrating on his footwork, now, head down, feet moving almost too fast to see, then taking long, lunging steps out towards the ring of people circling him. It took a minute for Phil to realize that he was pushing the ring back, giving himself a little more space, and Phil guessed that.... Sure enough, Clint launched into a tumbling routine that had the crowd gasping and cheering and clapping. Phil could hear the music building to a crescendo and didn't know if Clint had somehow signaled the DJ, or if he just knew the song well enough to have timed it perfectly, but he launched himself across the circle doing three no-handed cartwheels, and back again in a series of back flips, the last of which landed him directly in front of Phil. 

Clint gave Phil a brilliant smile, then turned 180 degrees and bowed, once, both arms sweeping low. The applause thundered over the music, but Clint wasn't paying any attention to it. He nodded, once, and then turned back to Phil, wrapped a pair of slick sweaty arms around him, and was kissing him deeply.

The music became a low, filthy grind and Clint thrust his hips into Phil's, moving one hand down to grab his ass and hold him close. He started to move in the slow, sensuous, snake-like undulations he had started his dance with, only this time, he was obviously mimicking a slow, deep fuck into Phil's body. 

Phil was aware of the eyes on them. Of the fact that they were the centre of a circle of very curious (and in some cases, disappointed) attention, as Clint held him and tried to excavate his tonsils. Eventually Clint broke off, giving Phil another wide grin.

"You were awesome," Phil said, smiling back at him.

"It felt good."

"You looked incredible out there, with everyone watching you. Hell, they're still watching you. Us."

"Good. I want them all to see how much I want you. I want everyone looking at us to know that I'm going to take you home and fuck your brains out. I don't even want to wait to get you home. I'd fuck you right here with everyone watching. Put you up against that pillar and fuck you hard and fast, just the way you like it." 

Clint hand slid around from Phil's ass to palm Phil's dick and Phil whined acutely aware of the crowd around them on the dance floor even though he knew that Clint's hand was between their bodies, knew that no one could see anything even if they were looking. Which they probably weren't, anymore, the show was over. 

Clint worked Phil's dick though his jeans some more, and then as if Clint could read his thoughts, he spun him around so that Phil was facing the crowd and Clint was behind him, cock hard and digging into Phil's ass. Clint’s arms were on his stomach, hands on his chest, fingers splayed. Clint started to play with Phil's nipples through his t-shirt, and Phil moved to twist away from him, but Clint held him, pulling Phil's body tightly to his.

"Colour?"

"Yellow."

Clint continued to hold him tightly. 

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No. Just... no. I'm OK. I love you."

Clint slowed and gentled his movements, rubbing his hands up and down Phil’s chest and belly, undulating his hips to gently thrust his hard cock against Phil's ass, murmuring, "Love you Phil, love you so much. Want you so much. You make me so hard. Feel how hard you make me. I love your body. So sexy. I love to feel you like this. Hard for me. I want everyone to know how sexy I think you are. What you do to me." 

Phil felt exposed. On display, despite the fact that no one was really paying attention to them any more, they were just one pair of lovers of many on a crowded dance floor. But Clint's attention exhilarated him, made him feel like the sexy, powerful man that Clint was telling him he was. Phil twisted around in Clint's arms, and put one hand into Clint's hair and the other on his ass. He thrust his hips into Clint's, grinding hard cocks together. He pulled Clint's head to the side, exposing his neck and licking a broad stripe up to his ear. Phil scraped his teeth against Clint's skin, just below his ear and then asked, breathless,

"Clint?"

"Yes. Fuck yes. Bite me."

Phil sank his teeth into the skin of Clint's neck and Clint sighed and tightened his hands on Phil's ass. They were thrusting and grinding in time to the music, as close to fucking as they could get with their pants on.

Phil released the bite and moved his lips back to Clint's ear. 

"Clint I swear if we don't leave right now I'm going to hump your thigh and come in my pants."

"We'd better go, then, because I still have plans for what I'm going to do to you when we get home."

"They'd better involve you fucking my brains out."

"Oh, don't worry, they do."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to my excellent editors t! and Shazrolane.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: [Queen of Wands](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


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